The Very Air We Breathe
by Idra
Summary: Things change. We have to change with them, or we risk eroding away.


This started as an excuse to write Trish/JoMo. It ended up with them, but... more introspective that that. It's still interesting enough to post, I think.

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><p>Some things never change. The way the arena smells, the way the mat feels under her feet. It's the same as it was when she left. It had been for personal reasons then... so many people lost. Not just the deaths but the way it had changed her friends. She'd needed the break. The time away had made her better, stronger.<p>

On her first night back, she meets some of the new people on the roster. Bret's niece, the other female wrestlers- even in her mind, it's a slightly smug reaction to the term wrestlers as applied to some of these women. Natalya's a different category. She grew up with the business, watched it destroy parts of her family. She gets the depths and the darkness the sport can bring. The men greet her in the same way the men had before. Even when they know her history, they still look at her like she's just a pretty face with a nice rack. It doesn't bother her. It never has. She's not above using her looks and her body to get her way with the male wrestlers. While most of them will look and ogle and flirt, none of them have ever tried to force her. Before, she knows it was because Edge and Christian and the Chris's had her back.

Just thinking of that, Trish walks away from the crowds, taking several deep breaths. "Are you okay?" a sort of familiar voice asks and she turns, spotting John Morrison standing there, holding a bottle of what she hopes is just water.

She forces a smile and nods. "Yeah. Just a little overwhelming."

"Yeah. Crazy group and all the guys are hitting on you. That's got to feel good, right?"

Trish laughs. "You'd think, but no. I missed this. The wrestling, the wrestlers, but... it's lost it's spark in a lot of ways."

"'Cause of all the wrestlers who aren't here anymore?"

She nods and glances over his shoulder to where Bret is standing with Vince as they talk about some angle or another. "Because of that. Because of all the changes that have occurred with the ones who are still here. I look at the guys I knew and loved when I was just starting and before that and... it hurts to know that some of them are gone and some of them aren't the same men they were." She holds her hand out for his bottle and he passes it to her without a word. She smiles at the simple and gentlemanly gesture. "Thanks." She sips at the water and walks over to a couch, sitting down. "They were my brothers. The men I always knew would have my back and their own... greed, their own ambition changed them. They're not the men I knew anymore and that makes me sad."

"But isn't it good that they've gotten where they are? I get you're probably talking about Edge and Christian and maybe Jericho. But look at where they are. Look at who they are now."

"They're only as good as the next guy they face. Their lives could change in and instant. Or end in an instant." She sighs again. "Those three, Benoit, Lance Storm, Rhyno, the Hardy's, Amy... sorry, Lita. Not one of them is the same. Jeff's drug problem is so out of hand, so is Matt's drinking problem. So many of them lost. Not gone necessarily, but lost."

John gestures to the seat beside her. "And they made their choices. Edge and Christian though? Jericho? They're doing good, living life how they want."

"Which includes a man who barely looked at anyone but his wife cheating on her with one of his best friend's girlfriend. That's being lost to me."

John nods. "Okay, you got me there, but what about Jericho? Christian?"

"Two men out of how many?"

"Still, any is a win, right?"

"Are you always this optimistic?" She looks at him curiously. "You've been in this business how long and you're still that..."

"I am. Look, a lot of bad shit happens in this business. I know that. I'm not blind. I'm not... naive. I come off that way, I guess, 'cause I try to see the good things. Think of all the good the WWE's done over the years'. Think of how much your friends loved this sport. The ones still here and the ones who chose other paths." He smiles at her and shifts. "Think about it. We get paid to play the part of the bad guy or the good. The crowd either loves you or hates you, but when you're out there, doing your job and they cheer or they boo or they call you names or they chant your name, you know you're doing it. You're being somebody. To those people, on those nights, those days, you've changed their lives for the better." He takes the water bottle and drains it, then continues, "So yeah, there's darkness and death and despair and desperation and a lot of other d words, I'm sure, but picture the light on the kids faces when they see us up there. When you do a greet somewhere and the kids just light up when they see you... Doesn't that make it worth it? Knowing that for two hours a week, two crappy little hours, we brighten peoples lives. We make their lives just a little better by entertaining them and taking their minds off their troubles." He pauses and strokes the hair off her forehead. "Isn't that worth it? On some level, doesn't that ease some of the pain?"

Trish blinks back tears and looks up at him. "I don't know. I guess that's why I agreed to be here. To help the Tough Enough kids. To see if it's worth it."

He leans in, brushing his lips over her cheek. "Well, you ever need a shot of optimism, I'm here."

As he gets up and walks back over to where the divas are laughing about something, she frowns, deep in thought. After a few minutes, Vince sits next to her. "Are you okay, Trish? You look... overwhelmed."

Trish smiles at him. "It's different. I didn't expect it to be this different, I guess."

"Things change, Trish. We have to change with them, or we risk eroding away."

Trish blinks and stares at Vince.

"Don't look at me like that. I know I'm not usually philosophical, but... I've been through that with this business. I've been through the losses. More than you can ever understand. I've seen people destroyed by this business, but at it's heart, it's not the business' fault. Those people made their decision and now? They have to live with it."

"Or their families do."

"Right. I'm sorry. That was..."

Trish shakes her head. "No. Okay, it was kind of dumb. But I get what you meant." She looks to where Bret is standing, talking to Edge now. "How'd you live with what happened there?"

"It was business. I loved Bret as a son. But business is business and has nothing to do with family." Vince shrugs and gets up when Stephanie comes in, looking slightly harassed. She gives a harried wave to Trish then Vince is pulling her out of the room.

"I'd hate to be a McMahon," Trish murmurs as she gets to her feet and goes in search of Booker T.

the end


End file.
